


The earth suits me better now

by Hirikka



Series: there's magic in a bard's song [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Djinn Jaskier | Dandelion, Established Relationship, Families of Choice, Family, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Immortal Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Kaer Morhen, M/M, Meet the Family, Minor Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25676371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hirikka/pseuds/Hirikka
Summary: After one of Geralt's strangest seasons on the Path—finding and (accidentally) freeing a djinn and falling in love along the way—Geralt is ready for a winter with his family and his bard.Written for Geralt Fluff Week Day 2: Kaer Morhen/Wolf Witchers
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: there's magic in a bard's song [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861804
Comments: 74
Kudos: 792
Collections: Geralt Fluff Week 2020





	1. Chapter 1

Jaskier is strumming his lute as he skips up the path. Geralt has to resist the urge to tell him to put it away and pay attention. He _knows_ that Jaskier won’t miss a step and fall—or if he did, that it wouldn’t do much more than inconvenience him—but it still makes him nervous. Even witchers need to be careful on the way up to the keep; the path is always treacherous no matter how familiar.

“Stop worrying so much,” Jaskier tells him.

“Hm.” 

“This all could have been avoided if you had just let me transport us up there,” Jaskier points out, not unreasonably. Jaskier’s transportation magic lacks the unpleasantness of portals, and it would have been easier than taking the path. But Geralt’s already unsure how his family will react to Jaskier, and he didn’t want to tempt fate by arriving in a big display of flashy magic. 

“You’re worried about how they are going to react?” Jaskier asks, although it isn’t really meant as a question.

“Yes,” Geralt replies. 

Jaskier turns back to look at him, swinging the lute around to his back, suddenly serious. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, Geralt.” He moves closer, placing a hand over Geralt’s heart. “I know how much your family means to you. If you don’t want to risk it, I can find another way to spend the winter.”

Geralt shakes his head. “No. I want you with me.” Part of him protests at this sign of weakness—admitting that he needs someone is not easy—but he pushes that aside. Reminds himself that it is okay to want, to need. 

“Alright then.” Jaskier smiles at him. “Don’t worry. I’m very charming; I’m sure I can get along with your family.”

Geralt gives him a dubious look. 

“Oh shut up,” Jaskier says, voice fond.

**

Jaskier tries to suppress his nerves as he approaches the keep. He’s older than he wants to admit[1], and he’s seen unimaginable things, but this has him nearly shaking apart[2]. He’s never been so concerned that someone _like_ him before, but he knows how important Geralt’s family is, and he doesn’t want to cause any kind of rifts between them. He’s not sure he could forgive himself for that. 

The last stretch to the keep is flat, so they are riding again. Jaskier allows Pegasus to amble along as slowly he would like, pretending that he doesn’t see the confused look that Geralt occasionally shoots his way. Eventually, even with the slow pace, they reach the gates of the keep. They swing open, and a man leaps forward, enthusiastically knocking Geralt off his horse and into a wrestling match. Roach snorts in disapproval but doesn’t do much more than get out of the way of the scuffle, so Jaskier isn’t too worried. 

After a few minutes, Geralt has the other man pinned. He’s grinning wide and carefree, and Jaskier decides that even if the rest of this winter is absolutely terrible, it will have been worth it to see how happy Geralt is with his family. 

“You brought a guest?” The new witcher asks, allowing Geralt to help him back to his feet.

Jaskier dismounts and offers his hand. “Jaskier the bard, at your service.”

The witcher takes his hand with a bemused look. Jaskier takes a moment to study him: He has three large scars down one side of his face and short dark hair; his amber eyes are a slightly darker shade than Geralt’s own.

“I’m Eskel,” the witcher says, casting a look at Geralt that is pretty clearly questioning. Geralt just shrugs, taking Roach and Pegasus by the reins and leading them into the keep. Eskel casts another curious look at Jaskier before he waves the bard in through the gates.

**

Jaskier purposefully slows his pace, gazing around at the keep in only partially exaggerated awe; he can tell that Eskel has questions, and he is mature enough to let the brothers have a moment alone. 

“A bard?” Eskel asks in a voice that certainly would have been too quiet for a human to hear. Luckily, Jaskier is very much _not_human[3]

“Hm.” That was Geralt’s teasing ‘hm.’ Clearly, he wanted to mess with his brother.

“Is this why I keep getting coins tossed at me?” Eskel asks.

Jaskier grins, delighted to hear that his song is working—he’ll have to rub that in later.

“Probably,” Geralt says.

Eskel huffs. “Well, if you don’t want to give me any details, I guess I’ll just have to ask _your_ bard.” The emphasis Eskel uses is clearly meant to tease, but Geralt just hums again. Jaskier decides that’s enough eavesdropping for the moment and trots into the stable.

“There you are, darling,” Jaskier purrs. Eskel’s eyes widen, and Geralt half turns to look at him, but Jaskier moves past both of them to kiss Pegasus’ nose as the horse pokes his head out of his stall and snorts. 

“Come on bard,” Geralt says, badly hiding his amusement. “I’ll show you the room.”

“Alright,” Jaskier agrees, scooping up his lute and then batting his eyelashes at Geralt hopefully.

Geralt just snorts. “Carry your own gear.”

Jaskier huffs in mock annoyance. “Some host you are.”

“Do you want me to get bedding to make up another bedroom, or…” Eskel asks, gaze darting between them as he fishes for information. 

“No,” Geralt says easily before starting off towards the keep. 

“Ta!” Jaskier says and follows Geralt. “It was lovely to meet you; talk more later!”

**

Jaskier is rearranging the small closet in Geralt’s room for the third time—and considering if he wants to use magic to make it larger—when the door bursts open. 

“Did you forget how to knock?” Geralt asks.

“I can’t believe you brought a human to the keep!” The new witcher spits. Jaskier turns to see the man who must be Lambert; he is lean and intense looking with one scar across his face and short cropped hair.

“Hello,” Jaskier says with a cheerful wave. “Lovely to meet you. I’m Jaskier, and you are?”

That draws Lambert’s attention away from his brother for a moment, but he doesn’t respond, just goes back to glaring at Geralt.

“Really, they could have taught you lot _some_ manners,” Jaskier snarks. 

“They tried,” Geralt says with a small smile. “Just didn’t take.”

“Clearly.” Jaskier walks over and drops himself into Geralt’s lap.

Lambert stops glaring for a moment. “I’m still in the room, you know.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Jaskier asks, the picture of wide-eyed innocence. “I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name.”

Geralt shoves his face into Jaskier’s shoulder to hide his laughter. 

Lambert stares for another moment and then turns on his heel, muttering curses under his breath, and storms out of the room. 

“Well, I think that went rather well,” Jaskier says. 

Geralt pulls him closer and hooks his head over Jaskier’s shoulder. “Sure. If you say so.”

**

The brothers are all in a good mood when they settle down for dinner. Eskel still looks like he’s trying to work out exactly what Geralt and Jaskier’s relationship is, and Lambert seems suspicious, but they are mostly focused on trying to out-do each other with stories of the hunts they had gone on. It’s absolutely wonderful, and Jaskier is very glad for his memory because he is absolutely going to have several new ballads based on these tales.

In the middle of one of Eskel’s stories, Vesemir walks into the dining hall and immediately focuses on Jaskier. The younger wolves fall quiet, watching the elder witcher. 

“Geralt.” Vesemir’s voice is intense. “Why ask a question if you are just going to ignore my answer?”

Geralt shrugs, apparently nonchalant, but Jaskier can tell he’s nervous.

“Oh,” Lambert gasps, “what did you _do_?”

“I specifically said not to get involved with djinn.” 

Now both Eskel and Lambert are frowning between the two witchers, seeming entirely lost.

“You told me not to mess with them,” Geralt agreed. “Didn’t say anything about dating one.”

Jaskier bit his lip to hide his delight at the absolutely shocked looks both Eskel and Lambert were shooting at their brother. 

Vesemir didn’t speak for a long moment, and then he settled into his chair with a sigh. “I suppose I didn’t.”

“It’s lovely to meet you!” Jaskier offers cheerfully. “Geralt really does respect your opinion a great deal.”

Vesemir looks at him with a raised eyebrow, but his lips twitch into a small smile.

“Now hold on.” Lambert leans forward over the table, voice intense. Jaskier worries for a moment that a fight is going to break out. “Vesemir, you bastard,” Lambert continues, turning his attention towards the older witcher. “If Geralt can bring his magic boyfriend, I’m bringing Aiden next year.” 

Vesemir glares back, but doesn’t respond, seeming to realize that he doesn’t have a good argument.

Jaskier is relieved to see that the witchers seem to be taking this news in stride—for now at least—and turns his attention to Lambert. “Who’s Aiden?” 

“He’s a cat,” Lambert says, seeming somewhat flustered, and then stops, apparently thinking that is enough information. 

“A... cat?” Jaskier frowns.

“He’s Lambert’s boyfriend,” Eskel offers.

“Oh!” Jaskier brightens. “I was wondering why Vesemir wouldn’t allow a cat up here. I mean, I know cats often don’t like witchers, but…”

“Cat witchers are dangerous and untrustworthy,” Vesemir cuts in. 

Lambert actually hisses at him. 

“Do you want me to get him now?” Jaskier offers, interrupting the building argument. “Why wait until next winter?”

“Could you do that?” Lambert asks.

“Oh yeah, sure,” Jaskier agrees. Geralt puts his head into his hands with a groan as Lambert and Vesemir immediately launch into an argument about whether or not Jaskier should be allowed to fetch Aiden. 

Jaskier sits back and watches the family drama unfold. He’s mildly worried about making a bad impression with Vesemir, but he’s sure that it will work out in the end. It usually does. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aiden receives a visitor and an invitation.

Jaskier _had_ invited Lambert to come, but the witcher had mumbled something terribly sweet about not wanting to pressure Aiden and then, realizing he had expressed a feeling, launched himself at Eskel to start a wrestling match.

“I should come,” Geralt says.

“No, you should _not!_ ” Lambert shouts, attempting to disentangle himself from Eskel, possibly to attack Geralt instead.

“I’ll be fine,” Jaskier tells Geralt. “There and back before you know it.”

Geralt has a mulish look that suggests he will not be dissuaded so easily, but Lambert has managed to scramble away from Eskel and throws himself onto Geralt’s back.

Jaskier hops back out of range of the fray and then, with a little wave, disappears.

**

“Is there a witcher here?”

Aiden looks up, eyes narrowed. It is rare—even this far south—for people to look for witchers in the winter, since most monsters are in hibernation. This boy doesn’t look like someone who would be seeking a witcher—even if there were monsters out. His clothes are silk, bright and eye-catching. He should be in a royal court, not a dingy tavern on the bad side of town.

“What do you need one for, boy?” the innkeeper asks. He’s almost as suspicious as Aiden.

The boy tilts his head, and for a moment, Aiden feels a flash of awareness—a tinge of nerves that he normally only feels before facing something dangerous.

The innkeeper seems to feel the same thing because he jerks his head in Aiden’s direction. The foppish boy flashes a bright, open grin that is as out of place here as his clothes are before he saunters in Aiden’s direction. He looks up as the boy approaches, narrowing his pupils to slits, hoping to scare the boy away before he gets any closer. He’s not in the mood for whatever this is.

It doesn’t work.

“Is this seat taken?” The boy’s voice is light and almost musical. He doesn’t wait for Aiden to answer, just drops into the seat across from him. “I’m Jaskier. It’s lovely to meet you…?”

“What do you want?” Aiden asks. He doesn’t sense any magic on the boy; he seems to be human, but there is something unsettling about him.

Jaskier sighs. “I suppose I should be used to the lack of manners by now.” He brushes a hand through his hair and then smiles again. “You are Aiden, right?”

Aiden gives a grudging nod.

“Excellent!” Jaskier grins again. “I am here to formally invite you to winter in Kaer Morhen this year.”

Aiden blinks, completely taken aback. Of all the things he had expected, that had not been it.

“I can see you have some questions. Let me see if I can answer them.” He starts ticking them off on his fingers: “Lambert told me about you. Vesemir _did_ say it was okay. I do have a way to get you there without dealing with that horrible path, if you would like to come.”

Aiden tries again to get a sense of what the boy is hiding, and this time, he catches a faint whiff of petrichor-scented chaos. “Why’d Lambert send you?”

Jaskier leans in, whispering conspiratorially, “He didn’t want to make you feel like you had to come.” Then he sits back up. “Also, he’s very bad at emotions. Which seems to be a family trait.”

Aiden considers that; it makes sense—although he’s never considered Lambert to be particularly thoughtful. The idea of somewhere safe to spend the winter is appealing; he wouldn’t have to worry about running out of coin and losing the shitty bed that was already almost more than he could afford. Although, the wolves themselves might be a problem. He hadn’t met Lambert’s brothers, but from what he had heard, they seemed much more rigid and uptight.

Although, glancing at the brightly colored creature in front of him, he wondered if that had changed.

“Are you wintering there?” Aiden asks.

“Yes,” Jaskier says, bright and happy and still without a single iota of fear. “So if you are worried about the company, you don’t have to worry about being stuck with only the wolves.”

“How’d that happen?”

“Geralt brought me,” Jaskier says with a frankely besotted smile that makes Aiden very curious. Lambert’s stories of Geralt had always painted him as a stoic loner who was, apparently, allergic to anything other than being miserable.

“Alright, I’ll bite. How are we supposed to get to the wolves’ keep?”

Jaskier’s grin brightens. “Do you have any stuff you need to get? A horse?”

“No horse. I’ve got gear in a room upstairs.”

“Well, finish your drink. Then we can go get it, and I’ll show you.” Jaskier leans back in his chair and reaches for something that isn’t there. “Aw, I forgot to bring my lute.” He glances around the room, but there are curious gazes lingering on them, so he just sits back. Aiden finishes his ale and stands. Jaskier hops to his feet and follows him upstairs.

In the room, Aiden shoves his belongings into his pack and swings it over his shoulder before picking up his swords.

“How do you feel about portals?” Jaskier asks.

Aiden narrows his eyes. “You aren’t a sorcerer.”

“No,” Jaskier agrees easily. “My portals are better anyway.” He waves his hand, and the room fills with the scent of petrichor as a portal appears in the room. Jaskier waves Aiden ahead, and the witcher steps into the portal—he considers briefly that this might be foolish, but he’s lived a long time and he’s never passed up an opportunity this interesting before. If his curiosity eventually gets him killed, it would be a fitting end.

In this case—unless Jaskier plans to kill him with the cold—he seems fine. Jaskier’s portal doesn’t have the unsettling emptiness that is typical of those made by sorcerers. He has to blink to adjust to the rapid change in light: He is now standing in ankle deep snow in front of an enormous stone gate. He can’t see the keep beyond it, but he can _feel_ the history of the place. A second later, Jaskier is at his shoulder.

“There’s magic on the keep that makes portaling directly inside slightly more difficult,” Jaskier says, tone apologetic.

Aiden just shrugs. He’s feeling trepidation now. Nerves about seeing Lambert again in the other man's home. Not to mention the other wolves. He knows that Vesemir didn’t _exactly_ order that all the cats be killed, but he did forbid them entry to the keep when the other schools were invited.

“If you need to leave at any point, just let me know,” Jaskier says, as if he was able to read Aiden’s thoughts. “I can take you wherever you want to go, if it gets to be too much.”

“Thanks,” Aiden says.

Jaskier dips his head in a nod and goes to push the gate open. Aiden follows behind, walking into the wolves' keep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few people asked for more and I cannot resist so I am back with a second chapter! I am planning for one more after this (maybe two?) once I can get the plot to cooperate with me.
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments on the first chapter <3

**Author's Note:**

> The title for this fic is from the song "Grey Leaves" by Robert Hallow and the Holy Men  
> Come say hi on [tumblr](https://hirikka.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> * * *
> 
> 1Seriously. He's not telling.[return to text]  
> 2It is surprisingly hard to hold onto a physical form when you're nervous.[return to text]  
> 3He had better hearing than most creatures (including witchers) which, according to Geralt, meant he really ought to be better at keeping out of the way of monsters. [return to text]  
> 


End file.
